HOLLYWOOD WEST
You can't blame Britney Spears for trying. When she first hooked up with her dimpled and handsome backup dancer Kevin Federline, everyone said it wouldn't last. He was, after all, the 'nobody' in the relationship, a boozing wannabe rapper who flew on the private jets Spears paid for and only stopped partying long enough to be photographed with her.
Now, despite Spears' announcement that she's carrying baby No 2 (her first is only eight months old) the news is that the duo are at breaking point. Federline, also known as K-Fed, is not having much luck with his rap album, and apparently would rather go carousing with his friends around Las Vegas than hang out with his wife and kid.
Such is the mildly disturbing new micro-trend that's hit Hollywood: the celebrity house husband. I'm not talking about successful men who happily take a back seat when their equally successful wives are working - such as Michael Douglas who stays home with the kids when wife Catherine Zeta-Jones is on a film set. Rather, I'm talking about the men that some women, who can have any man they want, settle for, men who are cute and maybe charming - and that's about it.
These are A-list women who are incredibly picky when it comes to choosing a personal trainer or beautician, but seem to toss all rationale out the window when finding someone to date or, worse, marry. Take US teen actress Lindsay Lohan, for example. The sought-after waif, who's reportedly had a dalliance with Irish actor Colin Farrell, has decided to keep company with British musician Jamie Burke, whose sole claim to fame has been landing model Kate Moss, back in her drug-taking days.
The idealist in me says even the most indulged and spoiled actress might be able to see through their own hype and find a nice down-to-earth guy. But the Hollywood watcher in me knows otherwise. Women in the movies are too wrapped up in their own egos to spend time with men who aren't as celebrated as they are. And unless these women have a massive need to outshine their partners, after a while the inequality rears its ugly head.
It's the antithesis of the Hollywood power couple: the women pay the bills, call the shots and determine which country they will jet off to that week. Their otherwise anonymous husbands are brought along for the ride.
Just ask Jennifer Lopez. Or Nicollette Sheridan. Or, way back when, Elizabeth Taylor, who hooked up with Larry Fortensky, a construction worker prone to alcoholism and violence, and stayed married to him for five years, which was about 41/2 years longer than anyone thought it would last. While the seven-times divorced Taylor is not exactly adept at choosing spouses, at least she had the good sense to marry hotel magnates, acclaimed actors and producers and even a US senator before her disastrous encounter with Fortensky. Although it was probably really handy having a construction worker around the house.
Lopez, on the other hand, had to make the mistake twice: she married waiter Ojani Noa in 1997 and divorced him 11 months later, and then married her backup dancer Cris Judd in 2001 before ending that several months later. But when she hooked up with singer Marc Anthony in 2004, it seemed J.Lo had finally met her match: they shared egos and entourages, more than she had in common with her first two husbands.
Desperate Housewives' Sheridan, who had been engaged to out-of-work Swedish actor Niklaus Soderblom, ended that alliance recently, and is now said to be preparing her wedding to former love Michael Bolton, who at least could afford to buy her a decent ring.
It's not that I want to be cynical about these matches. Oscar-winning actress Mira Sorvino married waiter and aspiring actor Chris Backus, who's 14 years her junior, in 2004. He'd previously been seen with Spears (who seems to have a thing for background players).
They've been married for two years, are expecting their second child, and are such homebodies that they're never in the tabloids. He doesn't attempt to use her fame to push his own agenda and appears to be quite happy lugging around car seats and strollers with her. Perhaps her Harvard education combined with her street smarts told her that, even if Backus didn't have much of a CV and probably wouldn't be bringing home an Oscar of his own anytime soon, he might be worth marrying anyway.
The idealist in me likes that.
Next week: Andrew Sun's Hollywood East